oh, little bird!

Saturday, 8-9 pm - Go Dark, Damnit!

I think it is a remarkably cool idea; on March 29 - all over the world  - cities and citizens will be turning off all non-essential electrical appliances for 60 minutes in recognition of Earth Hour. Sydney ? Off. Dubai? Off!  And here in Montreal our iconic cross on Mount Royal will also be dimmed from 8-9 p.m. (The debate rages on as to wether or not your TV constitutes an essential appliance when the Habs are doing so well and Saturday is, after all, hockey night in Canada).

Still Life Composition: Chocolate and Some Other Flavour of Malt Balls

Taken in the artist's kitchen for no particular reason.

I don't think pigs can fly, but fur? Why yes, I believe it can.

A few weeks back I awoke to find an enormous amount of fluff lining the planks and floor boards of my hallway. So much, in fact that I literally looked around for a torn pillow, thinking "that can't be fur, can it?" This must be the guts of a dessicated pillow, no? No, indeed. Said furrage was the result of a crepiscular feline frenzy courtesy of "the boys" Rupert and Noah (aka Demon Seeds). Witness the damage above, and the culprits - feigning docility - below.

Every once in a while the boys do things just like the cartoon animals I watched while growing up. A particular favourite is the "round the corner wide with front legs firmly planted and back legs churning" movement, something I'd thought only Sylvester and that big bulldog with the tiny sidekick could do. I have yet to see one of them freeze-frame off the side of a cliff whilst holding a tiny umbrella, but whose to say? Just like the boys bounce off my stomach at 5 a.m. like it's a gym class trampoline, hope springs eternal.

Moon over Monkland Village

Oh, my. I was chatting with my sister Virginia (of the Vancouver Virginia's) at about 9:30 pm last night when an enormous street lamp caught my eye through the bedroom window. No ordinary street lamp, though; low on the horizon, it was round, orange and eerily visible through the lowest boughs of an old tree. After a few minutes I called it, filled my sister in and just like she said it would it proceeded to rise, rise, rise until it was high overhead. No longer masquerading as the Great Pumpkin over Monkland Village, it revealed itself as a the man on the moon, awesome ball of cheese that is.

This is not a picture of last night's moon, but let's pretend it is, because it was just as magical.

Ruminations on purple

A few days ago I came home with this pot of purple crocuses. It's amazing how bringing a bit of nature indoors, in particular flowers so representative of springtime, can lift your spirits.  The store only offered purple flowers, but I don't think any colour but purple would do the trick for me right now. (The beautiful lavender sachets are from Elena and Martin's garden outside Geneva). As much as I love pink, yellow and pastels altogether, purple reminded me of the meaning of Easter, of loss and of renewal. Now I feel I should say I am a fairly lapsed Catholic, and I'm not about to start handing out pamphlets or circulating the donation basket. (Not that I disagree with those who do, I'm just lazy). But purple reminded me of the Passion, enough to Google it and re-familiarize myself with what that truly means.

I can't explain what death and renewal mean to others, but this Easter falls at a time when a lovely friend of mine has just left this earth, and she'll be buried this week. And as much I am sad, I know it is a drop in the bucket compared to the journey her immediate family is on, and will be on for the rest of their lives. My dad, Albert, died in 1996 and there are days when it hits anew that he is gone, and that as far as I know, I won't see him again. I think I'll be with him in some way someday, but my faith isn't so strong that I take it for granted. I wish it was. And with my friend Anne's passing, I realize that suffering is a very real part of life; it was for her, it was, is and will be for her family.

I hope that the end of life as we know it truly is part of the bigger cycle of things, and like buds on the trees human beings only retire from view to burst forth in some wonderful and surprising beyond what we could ever imagine. Surely, if grief and sadness can propel us into a realm we never knew existed, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, then there must be moments of joy equally beyond what we ever dreamed possible. 

Caninus Fabulousus

This dog was adorable - adorable! - dying to play even though I was on the inside and he, quite clearly, was on the outside.

Saturday, March 15, 2008 at the Navarino Cafe on Parc Ave.

Captain's Log: William Shatner is 77 Today. Break out the dilithium crystals!

It's hard to believe that William Shatner grew up right here in my neighborhood. If I had known as I child that I would live mere blocks from Captain Kirk's grade school, I'd have been thrilled. William Shatner AKA Captain Kirk was the first really BIG crush I had. As a South Shore St. Lambert kid, all I knew was that William Shatner grew up "on the other side of the bridge," meaning the island of Montreal proper. I can recall crossing the Victoria bridge, driving towards the city and asking my parents if 'this was the bridge that William Shatner grew up on the other side of." They assured me that it was. I was truly smitten.

The fab illustrations featured here were part of a summer 2007 Calgary-based project called The Shatner Show, which presented various artists' depictions of William Shatner in or out of character. The show may have ended, but there's a commemorative book and lots of fun images to explore:

http://vangooldesign.com/shatnerweb/SHATNER-WEB.asp?pname=intro

Lapins Agiles

The picture is a little fuzzy, but then they wouldn't stop moving...

In Praise of Adaptability

I snapped this Dad hauling his little one behind him on a sled on Boulevard St. Joseph last week. You see this a lot in Montreal, and it's one of the things that can make me smile even when I' feeling worn down by winter, as admittedly I am. I believe Montrealers really rise to the occasion during the winter, making the best of a beautiful season that doesn't always know when to take its leave.

Book Crush: Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cookbook

 

I first took this book out of the library when I was about ten years old, and I loved it so much Mum bought me my own copy. My friend Margaret and I absolutely LOVED pouring through this book, mostly for the recipes - the Enchanted Castle Cake made with inverted ice cream cones and trimmed with "pink pillow mints" was a favourite - but also for the quotes featured at the beginning of the book. Here, Betty Crocker's Test-Helpers shared their experiences in kitchen headquarters. We would take turns reading the quotes, changing our voice for each kid:

"We learned what words like baste and fold and beat mean." - Peter

"If I were a Mama, I'd cook all day." - Elizabeth

"After all the recipes we tasted, we had a wonderful party." - Becky

Margaret and I particularly liked reciting Mary Sarah's quote, because she looked and sounded so "wispy": "Mother showed me how to cut parsley and put it on top of soup. It looked pretty there."

I think the things that attracted me to this book when I was a kid - the technicolour photos, the pencil sketches, and the kid powerness of it all - are what make me like it still. Of course now there's the whole nostalgia factor, too. And where else can you find recipes for Kookie Kat Sundaes, Chili Concoction and meat loaf, the leftovers of which "makes the most wonderful sandwiches!"? (Becky again).